


'Shenanigans' means the SHIELD Holiday Party

by orderlychaos



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Glitter, M/M, Mistletoe, Office Party, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:  SHIELD holiday party and ensuing shenanigans</p><p> </p><p>“I came to ask you if you’re coming to the SHIELD holiday party,” Barton said.<br/>That caught Tony’s attention and he scowled.  “Yeah... no,” he said.  “Pepper’s already making me go to the Stark Industries one and I’m not sure I can physically survive two awkward social gatherings with bad food and cheap booze that no one lets me drink.”<br/>Barton smirked, his expression full of wicked amusement.  Tony had learnt to be wary of that smirk.  “Oh, you’re going to want to come to this one, Stark,” he said.  “For starters, it’s the one day a year you can pretty much guarantee all the senior agents will be drinking.”</p><p>There are reasons why you should never miss the annual SHIELD Holiday Party...</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Shenanigans' means the SHIELD Holiday Party

“Hey Stark!”

Tony Stark looked up from where he was rewiring part of the helmet of his suit at the shout.  He blinked a few times, actually impressed that Barton had been able to make himself heard over the rock music thumping through the lab.  Tony turned the music down, plunging the lab into a sort of echoing quiet that made Tony realise that maybe it was his head that was pounding more than the music, and looked inquiringly at the archer standing just inside the doorway.  “What’s up Legolas?” he asked, before frowning.  “How’d you get in here, anyway?”

Barton smirked.  “SHIELD agent, remember?” he replied.

Tony snorted.  “I bet Agent Agent taught you how to do that,” he grumbled.  “He’s always messing with JARVIS.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Coulson just asks,” Barton told him with a shrug.  “They have some eerily efficient bromance thing going on.  Anyway, that’s not what I came to talk to you about.”

“You’ve finally given in to logic and decided to take me up on my offer to live in the Tower?” Tony asked, already bringing up the mental blueprints of the suite of rooms he’d set aside for the archer.

Barton rolled his eyes.  “I’m a SHIELD agent as well as an Avenger, Stark,” he said.  “It’s just easier for missions if I live on-base or on the Helicarrier.”

“Fine,” Stark said, picking up one of the half-finished prototypes that littered his workbench and started tinkering with it using half his brain.  He couldn’t remember exactly what it was for, but he thought it might have been something to do with the body armour he’d been trying to design.  He made a mental note to talk to Pepper because he vaguely remembered her talking about it.  “Keep your secrets, Legolas.  One day, I will figure them out.”

He saw Barton roll his eyes again out the corner of his gaze.  “I came to ask you if you’re coming to the SHIELD holiday party,” Barton said.

That caught Tony’s attention and he scowled.  “Yeah... no,” he said.  “Pepper’s already making me go to the Stark Industries one and I’m not sure I can physically survive _two_ awkward social gatherings with bad food and cheap booze that no one lets me drink.”

Barton smirked, his expression full of wicked amusement.  Tony had learnt to be wary of that smirk.  “Oh, you’re going to want to come to this one, Stark,” he said.  “For starters, it’s the one day a year you can pretty much guarantee all the senior agents will be drinking.”

Tony blinked and glared at Barton, trying to figure out if this was some sort of joke.  “Even Coulson?” he asked sceptically.  “Yeah, I don’t believe you.  It’s genetically impossible for Agent to relax, let alone get drunk.”

Barton’s smirk widened.  “Well, he might not have been drunk, but last year we did get Coulson to drink enough that he forgot where he left his jacket and tie.”

“You’re kidding,” Tony said, gaping a little, but he could tell by Barton’s expression that the archer was completely serious.

“I swear by my bow, Stark.”

“Shit,” Tony swore, before he felt a grin curve across his face.  “Oh, I am _in_ ,” he said.  “Need me to convince Bruce and Rogers to come?”

Barton grinned back and nodded.  “I already asked Thor.  He’s bringing Jane and Darcy.”

“Oh, we finally get to meet the elusive girlfriend, do we?” Tony said.  “This is going to be a party.”

“You have _no_ idea, Stark,” Barton said, before disappearing out the door with a cackle.

*~*

“So, did you ask everyone?” Natasha Romanoff asked, sliding into the chair opposite her best friend and carefully placing her cup of tea down on the table.

Clint Barton raised his head from the table long enough to glare at her.  It was even less effective than usual with half of his dark blond hair standing up at odd angles and the faint remains of pillow creases on his right cheek.  Mornings really weren’t her partner’s best time of day.  “Of course I asked everyone,” he grumbled.

Natasha just stared at him until he scowled.  “Okay, so I asked Stark and Thor, but Stark promised to make sure Bruce and Cap come as well,” he amended.

That sounded more like it.  “And are you sure they’ll come?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Clint replied, grinning.  “I told Stark that Phil would be drinking.”

Natasha knew that the sight of the normally unflappable Agent Coulson after a few drinks and without any bullets flying in their direction was worth the price of the hangover in the morning for trying to keep up with him.  This year, the attendance of Captain Rogers also hinted at extra blackmail material.  Not that Natasha would use it; Phil was surprisingly adept at getting his own blackmail material on her and so far they were at the point of stalemate by mutually assured destruction.  Natasha often thought one of the best parts of the SHIELD holiday party was what she could catch Phil doing and what he in turn caught her up to.

“Good,” she said after a pause to let Clint drink more of his coffee.  “We need a plan.”

Clint raised his head again, this time with a wary expression.  It was the first holiday party since Loki and the Chitauri invasion and the Avengers being brought together and things at SHIELD were only just getting back to normal - or as normal as things could get when the world knew about the existence of aliens and superheroes and Norse gods.  New York still had its scars, both visible and not, but slowly things were beginning to heal.  Just like SHIELD themselves.  It was one of the reasons Fury had decided to prioritise the holiday party this year, to give everyone a chance to let off a little steam and celebrate something.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Clint asked softly.

Natasha arched an eyebrow as she sipped her tea, knowing her partner’s mind was straying to the fractured memories of his attack on SHIELD and the Helicarrier.  Contrary to Clint’s opinion, most of SHIELD didn’t hold him accountable for his actions under Loki’s control and had forgiven him anyway.  The ones that hadn’t were assholes and Natasha felt fully justified in accidently using them as target practice.  “Hill’s threatening to give us a full brief if we don’t and drag Sitwell in for tactical analysis,” she said.

“Not Phil?” Clint asked with a feigned nonchalance that Natasha could see through a mile away.

She shrugged slightly.  “Hill seemed to think Coulson was helping us already,” she said mildly, not pressing it.  Whatever issues there were between her partner and the senior agent were theirs to work out.  If Clint wanted to talk about it, he would.

“Oh,” Clint said, staring down at the table and beginning to trace out an invisible pattern across the surface with his finger.  “That’s cool.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.  Her resolve to let them deal with their issues lasted about five seconds after he started and Natasha scoffed at herself.  She never learned and if there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was her partner looking like a kicked puppy.  “You slept on-base last night, didn’t you?” she asked, giving him an opening.

“Yeah,” Clint muttered, still staring at the table.  “Things have been kinda tense lately and I didn’t want to push things.  Phil was tired and sore yesterday from his check-up.”

Natasha barely resisted the urge to kick him under the table.  “You’re an idiot,” she said.

Clint jerked his gaze up to glare at her again.  “I am not,” he shot back.

Giving him a look that hopefully conveyed what she thought his intelligence right now, Natasha waited until he huffed out a sigh to speak.  “You know it would take more than Coulson just being tired and sore to ever turn you away,” she said softly.  “If he even could.  That man is so ridiculously in love with you, it’s practically an obnoxious fairy-tale.”

The helpless and hopeful look in Clint’s eyes made Natasha want to both pat him on the head and hug him stupid.  If she ever caught up with some of the people from Clint’s past, they would never find the bodies.  “It’s my fault he got stabbed, Tash,” Clint whispered.

Natasha reached out her hand to curl around one of his.  “He has never blamed you for that even once, Clint, and neither have I,” she told him fiercely.  “It wasn’t you.  It was Loki.”  She watched his face for a moment, watching the words sink in.  It wasn’t the first time Natasha had said them and she didn’t think it would be the last.  She knew what it was like to have someone unmake you and turn you into something else and she would keep speaking those same words over and over to Clint until he didn’t need to hear them anymore.

“We can take lunch to Phil later and he can tell you that too,” she said, before giving in and giving Clint an expectant look.  “But right now, you’re supposed to be helping me plot the Holiday Surprise for this year.”

Clint’s eyes warmed and cleared as he gave her a faintly sheepish grin.  “Right,” he said.  “Sorry, Tash.  What are my orders?”

*~*

Steve Rogers blinked in slight confusion as his phone beeped.  He was slowly getting the hang of modern technology and a world that had changed around him while he was literally on ice, but there was a still a feeling of the world being so alien sometimes he couldn’t make sense of it.  Steve wasn’t sure that feeling would ever go away.  He still caught himself looking over his shoulder with a grin, expecting Bucky or one of the Howling Commandos to be there, ready to share the joke or wonder he’d found.  He missed them like someone had torn a gaping and invisible hole in his chest.  The fact that everything around him reminded him that it was Christmas didn’t help at all.  It just reminded Steve he was all alone in a strange new world he still didn’t understand.

His phone beeped again and Steve looked down to see two new messages from Tony Stark.   _Capsicle, assemble at the Tower by 7.  It’s time to get our party on!_

_P.S. Are you absolutely sure you can’t get drunk?_

The invitation wasn’t at all like the Christmases Steve had spent with Bucky, but Steve couldn’t help the small smile anyway because maybe this way he wouldn’t be alone for the holidays after all.

*~*

“I still don’t know what I’m doing here,” Bruce Banner muttered into his glass as he carefully watched all the people around him.

The SHIELD offices were actually rather festively decorated for the annual SHIELD holiday party, with tinsel and streamers covering the walls and enough mistletoe hanging off everything that it was difficult _not_ to stand underneath it.  If not for the fact that the decorating hadn’t been done by a professional company, Bruce would have suspected Tony had something to do with it.  There was even a small dance floor in the corner of the room that the junior agents were taking advantage of and the nearby paper targets, now dressed with hand-drawn crowns on their heads, made Bruce think that the room was usually part of the SHIELD training facilities when it wasn’t covered in tinsel.

“Are you not enjoying the festivities, my friend?” Thor asked with a frown.

Bruce shrugged and opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by the arrival of Tony Stark.  “Brucie!” Tony grinned, slinging an arm around Bruce’s shoulders and leaning against him rather heavily.  Bruce wondered how much the billionaire had already had to drink - and just how badly he’d spiked the punch.

“Greetings, my friend,” Thor said, clapping Tony on the shoulder and making the billionaire stumble again.

“Thor!” Tony said loudly, before he grinned madly.

Thor grinned as well.  “He’s making his ancestors proud,” he boomed, turning to wink at Bruce.

Tony slid the ridiculous sunglasses he was wearing with his suit down his nose to look at both of them.  “I have a plan,” he said.  “And I need your help.”

Bruce sent Tony a concerned look.  “What are you planning, Tony?” he asked, already envisioning disasters in the making.

“Do we need to assemble for battle?” Thor asked, looking as if he was a second away from going searching for his hammer.

Tony blinked at him, his sunglasses still hanging off the edge of his nose.  “Assemble?” he said.  “Yes, we need to assemble!”

“What foes threaten the safety of Midgard this time?” Thor demanded.  “Tell me, so I may help vanquish them!”

“Hey!” Bruce felt the need to interrupt, because he was pretty sure a call to assemble would have come through SHIELD, not Tony Stark.  “No one is vanquishing anyone right now.”

Tony waved him off.  “It’s Coulson,” he said as Bruce started scanning the room for a chair he could dump Tony in.

He blinked and turned back to the billionaire when the name registered in his mind.  “Agent Coulson?” he asked, confused.

Thor frowned.  “The Son of Coul is a strong ally and friend, Man of Iron,” he said warningly.  “It would be unwise to suggest otherwise.”

“No, no,” Tony said, waving his hand through the air again.  “I mean, I need you to help me break into the SHIELD records room so we can find out who Coulson’s cellist is and fly her to New York.”

“Who is this cellist you speak of?” Thor asked, looking puzzled.

“Coulson’s girlfriend,” Tony said before Bruce could get a word in edgeways.  “Well, ex-girlfriend if she moved to Portland without him…”  He paused for a moment, before he turned to look at Bruce with wide eyes.  “ _Is_ she a girl?”

Bruce opened his mouth to tell Tony he had no idea, when Thor interrupted him.  “I will solve this,” he said decisively, before striding off.

“We need Capsicle!” Tony called after him, lurching forward.

Bruce just sighed.  It was going to be a long night.

*~*

“Capsicle!”

Pepper Potts looked up from where she’d been standing at the buffet table at the sound of a very familiar shout.  When she saw a very determined Tony Stark dragging a confused Bruce over to Steve Rogers, she almost groaned aloud.

“Have a drink, Miss Potts,” Director Fury said and it was only the poise she’d learnt taking care of Tony for years that meant she didn’t drop her plate and shriek at the Director’s sudden appearance next to her, even if she did jump a little.  “After the year you’ve had,” Fury continued, looking faintly amused as he offered her a glass.  “You deserve it.”

Pepper took the glass with a grateful smile and sipped.  “This is twenty year old scotch,” she said, surprised.

Fury smiled.  “Like I said, Miss Potts, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, Director,” Pepper said.

Fury’s smile widened a little more.  “SHIELD has a tradition,” he said.  “Anyone who has been indispensable over the last year gets to drink on my tab tonight.”

Pepper smiled and toasted Fury with her glass.  “Then thank you, Director, for both the drink and the compliment,” she said.

Fury chuckled.  “You’re welcome, Miss Potts,” he said.  “And I’d keep an eye on Coulson, if I were you.  Barton might actually succeed in getting him drunk this year.”

Pepper raised her eyebrows in surprise at both Fury’s warning and the wolfish smile that accompanied it.  Before she could say anything, however, she was distracted by a familiar should and Fury disappeared in a swirl of black leather.  “Pep!  Pepper!” Tony shouted.

Turning an exacerbated expression on the man approaching like a whirlwind, Pepper waved off Bruce’s apologetic look.  Tony lowered the ridiculous sunglasses he wore as he got closer and leered at her.  “Can I just say, Miss Potts, that you’re looking exceptionally hot today?” he grinned.  “Like a naughty librarian.”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Pepper just looked at him.  “Tony, you’re incorrigible,” she said.

Tony simply shrugged and grinned, shoving the sunglasses back up his nose before his attention was caught by something on the dance floor.  Pepper took the opportunity to look him over, but he didn’t look particularly sleep-deprived or drunk and even with the energy of a six year old, he wasn’t particularly restless either.  There was a part of Pepper that would _always_ love Tony, because for all his faults he was a hard man not to love; there was just another part of her that was relieved she wasn’t _in love_ with him anymore.  Sometimes Tony could be too much even for her and their relationship had been tearing them both apart.  She would forever be grateful to Tony for recognising that and letting her pull away again until they could go back to being friends and the closest either of them really had to family.

“Tony,” she said gently and he looked over at her again with a faintly guilty expression.  “What are you up to?”

“We need to help pin down Cap and stop him running off,” Tony said determinedly.  “And find wherever Thor went.”

“Tony, why do you need to find Captain Rogers and Thor?” Pepper asked, getting a bad feeling about this.

Tony’s expression turned faintly guilty again.  “We need them to help us break into the SHIELD records room,” he muttered.

“Tony!” Bruce protested at the same time as Pepper heard a familiar voice to her right.

“You’re not breaking into anything, Tony,” Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes said, walking up to their little group.

“Rhodey!” Tony grinned and grabbed the other man in a fierce hug.  Pulling away, Tony looked at Rhodey with a vulnerable expression he rarely let others see.  “You’re not still mad at me for blowing up half of Manhattan without you, are you?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes.  “I just can’t leave you unsupervised, can I?”

Tony narrowed his eyes as he tucked his sunglasses into his jacket.  “Rhodey, don’t be a party pooper, he said.  “We need to break into SHIELD records because we need to find out who Coulson’s cellist is and SHIELD probably has a million forms on her.  It’s Christmas.  No one should be alone at Christmas.”

Bruce smiled at Tony while Rhodey rolled his eyes again, but Pepper knew they would both cave in and help Tony if he asked, because neither of them could resist when Tony was trying to be sweet.  Pepper couldn’t really resist either, but she was more concerned with trying not to look guilty.  This was why she hated keeping secrets.  Tony must have read something in her face, before his eyes widened.  “You know who the cellist is!” he accused.

“Tony…” Pepper began, wondering how she was going to keep Phil’s secret now.

Thankfully, she was interrupted by Bruce.  “Tony,” he said.  “Is that...?”

Pepper followed Bruce’s gaze to the dance floor.  “Am I really seeing what I think I am?” Tony asked.  “Because if so, that is hilarious!”

Out on the dance floor, Darcy Lewis, Dr. Jane Foster’s associate and friend of Thor, had grabbed Clint Barton by the front of his tight black t-shirt and dragged him under the nearest mistletoe to apparently tongue him into oblivion.  Clint’s arms were flailing a little as if he didn’t know what to do or how to get away and beside them Natasha Romanoff was almost doubled over with laughter, a Santa hat sitting jauntily on her head.  Darcy finally released Clint, who then wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand while he swiped at a now cackling Darcy.

“You know, Barton really shouldn’t look so disgusted at the fact that a pretty girl just kissed his brains out,” Tony said.  “Oh, she’s going to get killed!”

Still out on the dance floor, Darcy had somehow managed to pull off the same trick as before and was now kissing Natasha Romanoff under the same bit of mistletoe, although from the looks of things, Natasha was doing a lot more participating in the kiss.  Pepper could only blink.  She was still a little shocked when Clint pulled out what looked to be a handful of glitter from somewhere and tossed it down the back of Darcy’s shirt.  Darcy broke the kiss with an offended screech.  Clint and Natasha high-fived with a pair of scarily matching grins, before they both slipped back into the crowd.

“Do you think it’s too late to build a cocktail mixing robot?” Tony asked.

Pepper looked down at the drink in her hand.  She was beginning to see the wisdom in Director Fury’s plan of letting all the senior agents get drunk.  “No robots, Tony,” she said firmly.

Hopefully, she could actually get Tony to keep to that this time.

*~*

“Phil.”

Phil Coulson turned at the sound of his name and smiled in greeting at the ever-elegant Pepper Potts as she walked over to him.  “Pepper,” he said, reaching out to take the drink she offered.  “You’re looking beautiful this evening.”

And she was.  Her blue dress was classy and showed off her willowy figure as it brought out the blue of her eyes.  Pepper blushed faintly in response.  “I like the tie,” she said.

Phil looked down as he ran a hand over the dark purple tie he wore.  “Thank you,” he replied.

Smiling slyly, Pepper looked at him.  “How’s the cellist?” she asked.

Phil felt his eyes move to Clint without conscious thought.  The archer looked good tonight, even though he wasn’t dressed much differently to normal.  His jeans were perhaps a little tighter than usual, as was his black t-shirt, and somehow, Natasha had managed to bully him into eyeliner, but otherwise he looked as gorgeous as ever.  His dark blond hair was spiked up haphazardly and there was a streak of purple glitter that made Phil’s fingers itch to brush it away.  He tore his eyes away from Clint in time to catch Pepper’s knowing smile.

“She moved to Alaska,” Phil finally answered, playing along with his and Pepper’s little game.  “Apparently Anchorage has a surprisingly good philharmonic.”

“Alaska.  Really?” Pepper said.

It was a game they’d both been playing since dealing with the fallout of Obadiah Stane and Stark announcing that he was Iron Man to the world.  Pepper knew the truth; she knew that he and Clint had been sleeping together for six months before Phil had managed to finally convince the elusive archer to let him take him out on a date and that he’d been pining after Clint for two years before that.  She’d even been ring shopping with him the week before.  The game was something Pepper had helped him come up with when too many people had started noticing Phil was getting laid regularly and asking questions about it.

It wasn’t as if Phil was entirely happy about keeping his and Clint’s relationship more or less a secret, but he knew how vicious SHIELD gossip could be; it was well known that Phil was one of the only senior agents that could happily spend long missions with Clint and he didn’t want the worst of the gossips thinking that he only did it because they were sleeping together.  So instead, he had a fake girlfriend that Phil found it fun to send to as many ridiculous locations as he could think of.

“Would you rather I sent her to Lithuania?” Phil asked with a smile.

Pepper smiled back.  “Well, if you’re going to do that, you might as well send her to Lichtenstein.”

Phil chuckled.  “I’ll have to remember that one,” he said.

There was a moment of silence between them as Phil scanned the dance floor out of habit.  He noticed that Happy Hogan was entertaining a gaggle of junior agents with what was no doubt stories about being Tony’s Stark’s driver and Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes was dancing up a storm with Maria Hill, who was actually wearing a dress to the shock of most of the junior agents in attendance.

“Phil…” Pepper began and Phil turned back to the woman at his side.  “I just wanted to warn you.  Tony’s set on trying to find your cellist.  He says no one should be alone at Christmas.  He means well…”

Phil nodded.  “From Tony Stark, that’s actually kind of sweet,” he said.  “But don’t worry.”

“Oh?” Pepper said.

Phil grinned.  “I have a plan to deal with that.”

*~*

Nick Fury scanned the chaos that was the annual SHIELD holiday party.  It gave him a warm feeling to know that his agents (and a few worthy consultants) were enjoying themselves without the threat of danger for once.  Well, mostly without the threat of danger.  Agent Romanoff was idly stroking one of her hidden knives and Agent Barton was giving the room that shifty-eyed look that mean he was about to disappear into the ventilation.  Darcy Lewis was doing an admirable job of getting into the holiday spirit by trying to lure Captain Rogers under the mistletoe for a kiss.  Rumour had it that she was trying to get a kiss from all of the Avengers and Nick made a mental note to forward on that memo to Coulson about recruiting her.

Tony Stark was being as loud-mouthed and obnoxious as usual, catcalling at Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes and Maria Hill as she did a surprisingly passionate tango across the dance floor.  Coulson, minus his jacket and with his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up to the elbows, was deep into what looked like a very serious conversation with Thor.  Despite Barton – and Romanoff’s – best efforts, Coulson wasn’t drunk yet, but he had managed to scare the entire crop of junior agents present, which was just as good in Nick’s opinion.  Nobody had managed to blow anything up yet, if you discounted Barton and Romanoff’s glitter bombs, which appeared to be this year’s Holiday Surprise.

Half of the room and nearly all of the agents present were now covered in piles of purple and red glitter, but it matched the festive atmosphere, so Nick didn’t mind.  He felt like it was almost time to make his retreat from the party; no one truly felt comfortable with their boss watching over them and the shenanigans were only going to get worse with more alcohol anyway.  Nick would just stay for one more drink, which would hopefully give Coulson enough time to do whatever he was planning.

Nick wasn’t sure what it was, but his gut was promising that he didn’t want to miss it.

*~*

Jasper Sitwell grinned as he watched the usually impeccably put-together Phil Coulson wander over to grab a fresh glass of Fury’s really, really good scotch.  Phil’s face held a slightly dazed expression and Jasper felt his eyebrows rise a little as Phil downed two fingers of scotch in one go.  “Shit, what were you and Thor talking about?” he said.

“Something I never, ever want to have a conversation about with him again,” Phil replied, coming to stand beside Jasper.

Like Jasper, Phil’s tie was loose around his neck and his shirt was rumpled, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  He looked more like an off-duty accountant than the deadpan Agent Coulson of SHIELD, but such was the beauty of the SHIELD holiday party.  A few minutes later, Maria Hill joined them, her face flushed from dancing and her hair coming loose from its bun.  Her dress made her look very pretty, but Jasper was mostly disconcerted at seeing the normally icily ruthless agent looking like a civilian.  He could appreciate how the junior agents were feeling as they eyed him, Phil and Maria like the apocalypse was going to hit any moment.

“Have fun dancing, Maria?” Phil asked, no inflection in his tone, but humour dancing in his eyes.

“Oh, shut up, Coulson,” Maria replied, but her lips quirked up into a smile.  “We all know I have a weakness for a man in uniform.”

“Particularly one who knows how to tango well,” Phil teased, handing her a drink.

Maria rolled her eyes as she took the glass, before turning to Jasper.  “So, what’s the gossip?” she asked him.

Jasper grinned back.  “Who would you like to start with?” he said.

“Stark’s always a good bet,” Maria said.  “Have we worked out who he’s sleeping with, yet?”

Frowning at the man in question, Jasper shook his head.  “No,” he admitted reluctantly; his tactical analysis was legendary and Jasper prided himself on the ability to analyse almost any situation correctly.  He wasn’t about to let Stark defeat him.  “Rodriguez in R&D is still convinced that Stark is still sleeping with Pepper Potts, despite the break up,” he continued.

“That’s only because Rodriguez wants to join in,” Phil interrupted.

Jasper shuddered.  “Thank you, that was something I never wanted to know,” he said sarcastically, shooting Phil a glare.  “We’re down to three to one odds that if Stark’s not sleeping with Dr. Banner already, he will be soon.  And we’re down to two to one odds that Stark really, really wants to despoil our dear national icon, the good Captain Rogers.”

Phil winced and Jasper grinned.  He knew all about Phil’s man-crush on Captain America and his contention with Tony Stark.  “Unless you’ve got anything to add, Phil?” Jasper said with another grin, because Phil was the Avenger’s SHIELD liaison.

“I try and stay as far away from Tony Stark’s sex life as I can,” Phil grimaced.

“Is there anyone else with odds in the pot?” Maria asked.

“Ours or the junior agents’?” Jasper asked.

Maria rolled her eyes.  “The junior agents’.”

“Oh, their pot is _very_ interesting,” Jasper said, mentally rubbing his hands.

“And here I was thinking they were all merely waiting for the Forth Horseman of the Apocalypse to appear,” Phil deadpanned.

“No, that’s just because you took off your jacket and no one’s bleeding,” Maria shot back with a grin.

Jasper rolled his eyes at his two fellow senior agents.  “The junior agents have ten to one odds that you’re sleeping with Stark,” he told Maria because that’s what she really wanted to know.  He paused to take a sip of scotch.  “Phil is four to one.”

“Damn it,” Maria grumbled.

Phil choked a little on his drink.  “That’s disturbing.”

“You’re telling me,” Jasper replied.

“This would all be easier, Phil,” Maria said, “if you would just tell us who you really _are_ sleeping with – because no way is it still that cellist.”

Phil smiled enigmatically, which sent all of Jasper’s warning bells shrieking.  Before he could say anything, however, he felt the ghost of a touch behind him and Agent Natasha Romanoff appeared silently beside him.

A second later, his world exploded into glitter.

Jasper blinked open his eyes and found Maria valiantly trying to hold back her laughter and Phil staring down a serenely content Agent Romanoff with a raised eyebrow.  With a sigh, Jasper began to brush red glitter off his skin and shirt.  When he looked up again, he found Phil staring over jasper’s shoulder with a deadpan expression.  “You might want to make a note, Agent Lennox,” Phil said and Jasper turned to see Agent Lennox standing behind him, his expression a mix of awe and horror.  “Senior agents don’t scream when things explode near them.  You might want to work on that before you insist you’re ready for a promotion directly to Level Six.”

At his words, Maria clapped both her hands over her mouth and almost doubled over with laughter.  Agent Lennox used the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat and Jasper turned back to face Phil, only to catch sight of Natasha’s smirk.  “If you don’t mention these things, they ever learn,” Phil said mildly.

Jasper grinned.  “Phil, you’re a real bastard, but I hope you never change,” he said.

There was a moment of comfortable silence as Maria got her laughter under control, before Natasha turned to Phil expectantly.  “Well?” she asked.

“I give you an eight out of ten,” Phil said after a moment of consideration.

Natasha frowned.  “My execution was excellent,” she said.

“You’re execution was flawless,” Phil replied.  “You lose points for a slight lack of creativity.  Next time for Jasper, I recommend black glitter.”

“See?” a disembodied voice said from the darkness above them.  “I told you we should have gone with the black glitter.”

A second later, blue glitter erupted all over Maria and Jasper heard the unmistakable sound of Barton laughing in the ventilation.  Jasper looked at Phil and raised an eyebrow.  Phil tried to fight a smile.  “Nine out of ten,” he said.

Natasha looked offended.  “That’s blatant favouritism,” she said.

“Your execution was much better than his,” Phil told her.

The former Russian assassin sniffed disdainfully and silently slipped away into the crowd.  Phil sighed and downed the rest of his scotch.  “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, following her.

Jasper, still leaving a trail of red glitter in his wake, walked over to the bar and poured both himself and Maria a fresh glass of scotch.  Maria was just shaking the worst of the blue glitter out of her hair when he got back.  “Ten bucks says Barton and Romanoff get Fury with glitter by the end of the night,” he said, handing her a glass.

Maria grinned.  “You’re on.”

*~*

Clint Barton slipped easily out of the ventilation and landed on silent feet.  He was still grinning over Agent Hill’s shocked expression as blue glitter had exploded all over her, although he did moderate it into a more characteristic smirk as he snuck back into the party and sought out Natasha.  His smirk widened when he found her casually stealing gummi bears from a gaggle of terrified junior agents.  Sneaking up to them, Clint caught the gummi bear that Natasha threw at his head as the junior agents whirled with wide-eyes and pale faces at his sudden appearance, before fleeing as if they were being shot at.

Shrugging, Clint tossed the gummi bear into his mouth and grinned at Natasha.  “Aw, you’re not still made that Phil gave me a better score, are you?”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him.  “Of course not,” she said.  Clint fell into step beside her as she began to move through the crowd.  “I was giving Coulson a way to slip out of the conversation.”

She glared when Clint snorted sceptically and he had to bite back another smirk.  “You placed everything where I told you, didn’t you?” Natasha asked.

Clint rolled his eyes.  “You know I did,” he said.  “Everything’s ready to go.”

“Good,” Natasha said, before pausing.  “I still think you should stop your ridiculousness and drag Phil under the mistletoe for a kiss.”

Clint scowled.  “It’s not that simple, Tash,” he said.

He and Phil weren’t a secret, exactly.  Fury knew and so did Natasha obviously, and Clint suspected both Hill and Sitwell were only waiting for Phil to admit it.  It was just that after everything that had happened with Loki and the Chitauri, Clint was waiting for the other shoe to drop.  No matter how many times Phil and Natasha told him it wasn’t his fault, Clint still knew that without him, Loki would never have been able to knock out the computer systems on the Helicarrier and get out of his cage.  And if he hadn’t gotten out of his cage, he wouldn’t have been able to stab Phil.  There was still a part of Clint that didn’t believe Phil was sticking around after that, let alone the fact that Phil had forgiven him.  No one had done that before.

Clint jerked as he felt Natasha slap him on the back of the head.  Hard.  “Ow,” he muttered, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him.

“Stop being an idiot,” Natasha told him with a glare.

Opening his mouth to reply, Clint looked up and stopped short, realising Natasha had led him straight to Phil.  And Phil looked _good_.  His dark purple tie, one of Clint’s favourites, was loose around his neck and the top button of his shirt was undone, revealing a teasing glimpse of Phil’s throat.  Phil’s shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms and his eyes were bright with humour.

“Hi,” Phil said to Clint with a small, soft smile.  “I was just about to come looking for you.”

Clint blinked.  “Me?  How come?”

“I had something I needed to ask you,” Phil replied and Clint was surprised to see a nervous twist to Phil’s smile.

“Ssh,” Natasha grumbled.  “You’re going to miss it.”

“Miss what?” Phil asked.

Clint grinned.  “Our grand finale.”

Phil looked between both of them, clearly intrigued even if he was trying not to show it and Clint couldn’t hold back his smirk.  He and Natasha had outdone themselves this year.  As if on cue, and knowing Natasha there was little doubt, the fireworks began.  Or rather, the glitter exploded.  Thor was first, exploding in red and silver.  The demigod let out a booming laugh, clearly delighted.  Bruce exploded next in a shower of green and Clint grinned at Bruce’s soft, happy smile at being included.  People were still really cautious around him in case he hulked out and tended to avoid him, but Clint thought they were all idiots.

It was Stark you wanted to avoid.

Stark was watching everything happen with growing horror and a second later his suit exploded with red and gold glitter.  “Damn it, Barton!  This is Brioni!” he shouted and Clint couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore as he shared a high-five with Natasha.

“Impressive,” Phil murmured in his ear and Clint could feel the warmth of the other man against his back.

“You haven’t seen the best part yet,” Clint replied, still grinning, as he sank back against Phil’s chest.

Phil slid an arm around Clint’s waist in response.  “Oh, really?”

Clint smirked as Captain America himself erupted in a shower of red, blue and silver glitter.  The expression on Steve’s face was priceless as he tried to work out what had happened and even Fury cracked a smile at the sight – which made it even better when Fury himself erupted in a shower of pink glitter a second later.  Phil’s laughter in his ear was one of the best things Clint had ever heard.  He turned around with a grin to watch the laughter light up Phil’s eyes as Stark and Fury cursed loudly behind him.  Almost no one was paying any attention to him and Phil and Clint used the opportunity to slide his own arms around Phil’s waist.

“Pretty good, huh?” he said.

Phil, still chuckling, shook his head slightly.  “Marry me,” he said.

Clint blinked, feeling a little like he’d suddenly been sucked into a different dimension.  “What?”

Reaching up to cup Clint’s cheek, Phil looked at him with a suddenly serious expression.  “I know now is hardly the best time to ask this and we still need to have a talk about why you’ve been avoiding me lately, but…”  Phil paused, his thumb stroking Clint’s cheek.  As always, it was Phil’s eyes that undid him.  From the first time they’d met, Clint had been struck by those eyes and right now, they were showing Clint all the love and hope Phil was feeling right now.  “Clint Francis Barton, I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Will you marry me?”

For a moment, all Clint could do was stare at Phil.  Then he glanced down to stare at the silver ring Phil was holding in his other hand.  The band was thick and if a ring could look permanent, this one did.  But it was the design etched into the ring that had Clint’s heart lurching; it was a hawk in flight, an almost exact copy of the little doodles Phil left in the margins of his files when he was thinking about Clint.  It was beautiful.

“Clint?”

Clint looked up, the force of his emotions hitting him like a punch in the gut.  “Yes,” he said, startled by the hoarseness of his voice and the strength of his vehemence.  “ _Yes_.”

His hands fisted in Phil’s shirt almost of their own accord and Clint pulled the other man closer.  “Jesus, please tell me I can kiss you right now,” Clint growled.

Phil smiled, not the bland smile he gave strangers or the polite one he used around SHIELD, but the unguarded smile that grew until it took over his entire face and meant that Phil was genuinely happy.  “Well, we are standing under the mistletoe,” he said.

Clint felt his own smile grow in response and he sank against Phil as the other man’s arm wrapped around his waist again.  The kiss was greedy and sweet at the same time and all Clint could do was hold on as he was swept away.  When he finally pulled back, they were both panting and Clint thought his brain might have melted away, but with Phil’s calloused fingers stroking the skin at the small of his back, Clint didn’t think he could be blamed for it.  It was only a few seconds later that Clint realised everyone was now staring at them.

“Damn it, Phil, you couldn’t have waited until next week?” Fury grumbled.

“Well, shit,” Hill said.  “Okay, who had today in the pot?”

Clint blinked up at Phil.  “The senior agents have been betting on us?” he said.

Phil nodded, the beginnings of a smirk curling his lips.  “And not just the senior agents,” he replied softly, before lifting his head to look at Hill and raising his voice.  “I believe it’s Sitwell who wins the pot,” he added.

Hill glared between Phil and Sitwell, as if she was convinced they’d somehow cheated, but Sitwell looked as stunned as everyone else.  Clint was a little put out to realise that people looked more surprised after his and Phil’s kiss under the mistletoe than they had after the glitter explosions.

“Shit, Barton, that was some mistletoe kiss,” Stark said with a leering grin, although it looked more than a little ridiculous with the way he was still covered in glitter.

“Shut up, Stark,” Clint grumbled, but he was too happy to put any head in his words.  “I just got engaged.”

As if in punctuation, Phil huffed softly and grabbed Clint’s left hand so he could slide the ring onto Clint’s finger.  “You actually need to wear the ring for that,” he said and they both ignored the way Stark spat out his drink in surprise behind them.

Clint smirked at Phil.  “No, I don’t,” he said.  “You asked a specific question and I answered, so therefore we’re engaged.”

Phil rolled his eyes.  “Traditionally, the jewellery is part of the question.”

Looking down at the ring on his finger, Clint felt his reply die on his tongue.  He had expected the ring to feel strange and heavy, but it didn’t.  Instead, it felt like it had always belonged on his finger and he’d only just realised it was missing.

“Oh no you don’t,” Fury growled and Clint looked up to see the Director approaching them, pink glitter still clinging to his swirling black coat.  “Don’t you dare get mushy in the middle of my headquarters, Coulson.  You’re both a pair of sarcastic bastards and I don’t think the world is ready yet to discover you have actual emotions.”

Clint smirked.  “Who said anything about emotions?” he quipped.  “I’m marrying Phil for his fantastic ass.  And this thing he does where…”

“Barton!” Fury barked.  “What have I told you about mentally scarring me with the sordid details of your sex life?”

Clint laughed and for a stunned moment, he barely recognised the sound.  It wasn’t his usual laugh; there was no edge of mocking or hint of derision.  There was no voice in the back of his head whispering doubts or other ugly things.  For what felt like the first time in his entire life, Clint was truly and completely happy.  He looked over at Phil and from the soft, sweet smile on his face Phil knew everything that had just gone through Clint’s mind.  He always did.

“Get out of here, you two, before the masses converge on you after the surprise wears off,” Fury told them.  “And don’t let me find out unspeakable things happened in any storage closets!”

Grinning, Clint knew an order when he heard one.  “Happy holidays, boss!” he called out over his shoulder as he grabbed Phil’s hand and fled.

*~*

Phil groaned at the sound of an incoming text message and blearily blinked open his eyes.  He was really getting too old to indulge in Fury’s free booze like he had, even if it was the good stuff.  He felt the man in his arms shift away and let out another groan of protest.  Clint chuckled and soothed him with a kiss as he settled back into Phil’s arms, now thumbing his phone.

“So what does Natasha have to say?” Phil asked as the archer let out another soft chuckle.

“Just an update on what happened last night at the party,” Clint replied.  “She sent photos and everything.  Apparently, Darcy managed to collect all six Avengers kisses.  I could have done without her kissing me, though.”  He made a sort of gagging sound and Phil leaned forward to press a kiss into the naked skin of his shoulder.

“Stark and Bruce took over as bartenders around midnight and gave everything nerdy names,” Clint continued after a while.  He chuckled a moment later.  “According to the photos Tash sent, this appears to have taken place without shirts.  And… oh God, I don’t ever want to see Stark without pants on again.  His ass is not pretty, no matter what the newspapers say.”

Phil chuckled sleepily.  “Did he build any robots?” he asked.

“Just… ah, the one, by the looks,” Clint answered.  “Also, while mostly naked.  That man is strange.  Tash also says that ‘shenanigans’ is Thor’s new favourite word.  He also got in on the half-nakedness part.  And… I think I’m going to stop flicking through these photos now.  They’re starting to get disturbing.”

“I’m going to need to fill out paperwork for this party, aren’t I?” Phil asked, his eyes still firmly closed.

“There’s _paperwork_ for the holiday party?” Clint said.

Phil smiled.  “Oh, yes,” he replied.  “Sometimes it’s better just to classify the whole thing.  Makes dealing with the resulting blackmail a lot easier.”

“Huh,” Clint replied.

Phil felt him shift again to put his phone back on the nightstand and opened his eyes long enough to watch the play of muscles shifting along Clint’s back in the moonlight coming in from the window.  He smiled when the archer turned back to face him, a warm feeling spreading through his chest at the soft, happy expression on Clint’s face.  “Sorry for waking you,” Clint said softly, leaning down to give him a kiss.

“It’s okay,” Phil replied, sliding his arm around the archer’s waist as Clint settled back against him under the blankets.

“Oh, and before I forget, Tash says that it was about damn time you made a somewhat honest man out of me and that she’s impressed you managed to pull this off without her finding out about it before hand.”

Phil smiled as he felt his eyes drift shut again.  “Happy holidays,” he said.

 

The End


End file.
